No Regrets
by redcharcoal
Summary: Caroline does something horrible and the fallout changes everyone. Written for the LJ DWP Poke The Dragon July Ficathon. Prompt was: Jealousy. My own additional personal prompt was: What would happen if Miranda's darling "do no wrong" twins did something even she found hard to forgive? Mirandy pairing. Three parts.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Andy pressed Miranda against the interior of her townhouse door and applied a trail of feverish kisses up her neck. They'd just passed Cara on the front door threshold.

"The girls turned in an hour ago, Ms Miranda," the housekeeper had politely reported on her way home. "I hope you had a good evening at the ball."

Miranda had nodded abruptly once, her face a blank slate, shutting the door swiftly, at which point Andy had pounced. _God, her skin, so soft, so, so soft. _She wanted to be everywhere. Her hands dropped to Miranda's hips, kneading the skin through that divine midnight blue Valentino. She'd looked stunning tonight.

Miranda's eyes drifted appreciatively across her body and Andy blushed. It was just like their first night together one month ago to the day. Scorching gazes, lips licked_, _eyes dropping. Although right from that first night, as Miranda had kissed her senseless after offering her a lift home from a ball the reporter had been covering, the white-haired woman had also made the ground rules clear: "Never in front of the girls – they must never know. And never anywhere the media could get hold of it and crucify us."

Andy had nodded fervently. And that was all the discussion they'd ever had on the topic. A month later and she still couldn't get enough of the woman she knew she was falling for hard. What Miranda thought of the arrangement, Andy had no clue, because the other woman wasn't big on talking. Well not beyond "Oh, oh. Oh yes. Oh. _There_."

Andy's hands slipped behind Miranda and gave those delectable swells a squeeze and then leaned in for a proper kiss. She felt Miranda respond for a moment with a pleased hum that made Andy forget her own name, before hands came up to her shoulders gently pushed her back.

"Andrea,'' she murmured, "Not here. The girls will..."

"The girls aren't here right now. The lights are out. You are in my arms and..."

"The girls ARE here."

A low angry young voice cut through the still night air and Miranda froze, the blood draining from her face. Andy leapt back in shock and faced their young accuser.  
>Caroline sat on the step of the landing watching them, a stormy expression on her face.<p>

She straightened her back and spat: "And we don't like it."

"Bobbsey?" Miranda began cautiously. "It's not ... not what you think." She was white as a sheet, eyes shocked. Andy felt a tremble run up the other woman's arm and her hand balled into a fist.

There was also no doubt Caroline, based on her disbelieving expression, knew exactly what "it" was. Rule No. 1 was now a distant memory.

_Oh shit. _

"That you're fucking your former assistant? Your FAT former assistant who's also a girl?''

"Language Caroline!'' Miranda hissed. "How dare you say such things!"

"Why not? It's the truth. And you've called her worse. You called her 'useless and incompetent and a fashion eyesore', too, when she first started working for you."

Andrea froze._ Oh god. _Miranda was about two seconds away from going ballistic. She slid an anxious glance at her lover who had stiffened like a board. The only question was which way the guns would be pointing.

"I should go," she said softly. "I'll call you."

Miranda blinked as if suddenly remembering Andy was still there. And then she hesitated. Andy, honed in the fine art of reading Miranda for almost a year, instantly felt the shift. "Unless you don't want me to call?"

She tried to keep the pathetic entreaty from her voice. She didn't entirely succeed. They had never talked about anything beyond their next date. Next encounter. This was unknown territory. Andy felt her heart beating out of her chest as she waited.

Miranda pursed her lips, opened them and then shut them, and hesitated again.

"Miranda?" Andrea asked, hurt lacing her tone.

"No," said the 13-year-old on the steps, eyes burning fiercely. "We do NOT want you to call, or visit, or take up any more of our mom's time. You already ruined our birthday. We were supposed to have a pre-birthday celebration tonight and instead she was out with YOU. She FORGOT."

Miranda started. "Darling, I said if I was available we'd do something tonight but that tomorrow, no matter what, your birthday will be all we focus on."

Caroline glared at her. "So _she _is more important than we are?"

"Um hey," Andy interrupted gently. "What's going on Caroline? I like you girls. I thought you liked me. We were getting along, weren't we? Why all the 'she' stuff?"

"You were fine when you were her assistant," Caroline conceded, eyes still burning. "We liked you _then_. Getting Harry Potter won us over for a while. But now we know you just wanted to get into Mom's pants."

Silence. The ugly accusation in the girl's voice hung heavily in the air. Miranda didn't even blink, staring at her daughter with an unnatural stillness.

Andrea gave a startled half cry. "That's not why I did it, Caro." Her voice was a gutted plea. Horrified.

"Stop calling me that, I've always hated that stupid nickname. Only Cass can call me that." Caroline glowered.

"Honey," Andrea tried again. "I'm really sorry about your pre-birthday night. If I'd known I was interrupting something then I'd have..."

"You ALWAYS interrupt something. You're ALWAYS around. And when you're not, Mom's always saying 'Andrea this, Andrea that'. So Mom, we've had it. Had it with the way you always forget we exist whenever you find someone new. Had it that you forget about how hard it is at school whenever you're on Page Six. And now - honestly - a girl half your age? Who everyone's going to call a gold digger? Hey maybe she IS a gold digger. Are you trying to inflict social suicide on Cass and me? It's too much."

"Bobbsey, what are you saying?" Miranda asked her faintly. She looked bloodless, her skin almost translucent in the low light above the door. Her eyes were darting wildly.

"It's her or us. Choose. Choose us or we tell Dad about your love life and demand to live with him. And you know he won't shut up about it in the press either if we get him mad."

"You're blackmailing me?" Miranda's eyes widened.

"No, Mom. I'm asking you to choose family first," Caroline said firmly and her hands formed tight little fists by her side. She added: "Just for once, put us first. Please, please choose us this time."

There was another silence as Miranda digested this. Andy eyed the redhead who had just manipulated her mother like a pro. It was a virtuoso performance. In turn the girl's knowing green eyes narrowed in warning, daring her to get between a mother and her child. Andy stared back, incredulous.

"And where is your sister in all this?" Miranda asked, having missed the silent exchange as she peered higher up the stairs. Another set of wide green eyes was watching them. "Cassidy, do you agree with this ... this ultimatum?"

Cassidy didn't speak, instead her grip on the balcony railing made her fingers go white. She swallowed.

Caroline filled the silence with scorn. "She's already chosen. I told her it was Andy or me. We're twins. You do the math."

Miranda took one step away from Andrea and Andy's heart spasmed painfully. She reached out to clasp Miranda's wrist, asking without words for her to stay. To not do this.

Miranda eventually noticed the hand on her and turned, their eyes locking. If it hadn't been so serious, her lipstick-smeared, full, kissed lips and mussed hair would have been endearing. The icicles in her eyes, though, the rigid posture, the anger and fear radiating off her were anything but adorable. Suddenly, like a light flipping off, Miranda's face was schooled to boardroom neutral. Her political game face. _Oh no. No, no, no. She was going to…_

"Miranda," Andrea whispered urgently, mounting panic evident across her face. "Please, don't. We can work something out. Something that gives you more time with your girls, who obviously just love you very much and want to spend more time with you."

"I don't really think it would have worked, do you Andrea?" Miranda said in a low murmur, so her daughters wouldn't hear. In the unnatural stillness though, perhaps they would.

"Caroline is right about one thing - we would be a laughing stock on Page Six," she continued. "Their father would not hold back if he got it in his head to make this ugly for me, if he knew the girls wouldn't object, and he would sue for sole custody in the blink of an eye if the girls demanded it."

"How can you say it wouldn't have worked? We've been great together," Andy pleaded. "We _are_ great together. I completely understand the demands on you, and you understand why my career matters to me. We can talk about this. We can ..."

Miranda peeled Andy's grip off her arm with her fingers and her face shifted to disdain. Andy's heart dropped into her boots when she heard the harsh tone next. It brooked no room for discussion.

"There's nothing to talk about," Miranda said and drew herself up to full height. "You have been a pleasant diversion but we both know it would have ended one way or another - our age and social standing are too different. Honestly Andrea, can you see me taking you to the Runway Annual Gala Ball, on my arm, for the paparazzi to have a frenzy over? Picking us apart? Did you, perhaps, picture moving in with me one day?" She gave a scornful laugh. "Me, the head of a global fashion publishing empire, and you my former assistant turned junior newspaper reporter? Such a perfect match."

The scorn was brutal. Unnecessarily so, Andy noted in the dim part of her brain still trying to process this awful conversation. She heard a soft snicker and realised at least one daughter had heard the callous speech. She couldn't tear her eyes off Miranda though, not now. She had to tell her. Convince her.

"Miranda," she whispered, her voice a dry rasp. "You don't have to do this ... say these things. You don't have to. It's not really them or me. We can work something out. You're not thinking straight."

She poured her heart and soul into her words, desperately trying to cut through Miranda's resolve. The older woman stared at her for a moment.

"On the contrary Andrea, I have been clear from the outset about what cannot happen. Was it not the first thing I said to you? At least this way it ends before we become a sideshow, and before my girls get hurt any more than they already have." She exhaled, her nostrils flaring. Under her breath she added: "Perhaps it was a mistake to start with."

"Miran..." The rest of the word died in Andy's throat. _Oh God. She couldn't mean that?_

It might have been only a month of dates, laughter and delicious intimacy but she had felt closer to Miranda in that month than she had to anyone in her life. She thought they'd connected. She briefly shut her eyes. Had it really been so one-sided? She was just a fun fuck to amuse Miranda before she moved on? She could've fooled Andy. Clearly she did.

Andy's eyes were shining with unshed tears when she opened them again and was pinned with an icy stare.

"It's better to make a clean break of it," Miranda said in her trademark Arctic whisper that brooked no dissent. She crossed her arms across her chest. "After all, dear, it's not like our feelings were involved."

And there it was. Andrea stared at Miranda in outrage. She didn't care if the pain, the humiliation, the grief and loss were written all over her. She didn't care that tears were now streaming down her face. She memorized the woman she now realised that she probably loved. Memorized all of her since she would never see her again. Never touch her. Never kiss her. Her heart was shattering in slow motion. Her fingers floated up to Miranda's famous iconic sweep of hair and ghosted over it.  
><em>No feelings involved? <em>

"Speak for yourself," Andy ground out. Her hand snapped back to her side and she turned to leave, eying Caroline briefly as she did so. The small girl had an unreadable look on her face that matched her mother's.

_Why?_ She asked her wordlessly, outraged and hurt. _Why_?

The girl broke her gaze and her cheeks reddened as she looked away.

She left Miranda's house, Miranda's precious family, Miranda's life, and in a passing fit of rage slammed the door so furiously it almost came off its hinges.

From inside the house she heard Patricia bark at the sound. And then complete silence. Andy stomped away, tears running down her face.

Well. That was that. At least now she didn't have to agonize over what Miranda thought about her any more.

* * *

><p>It had been a month. Andy stared at the ceiling of her bedroom and contemplated her vastly shitty life. She went to work, went home, went to bed, woke up and did it all over again. She was not in the mood for this living business. Doug had been around a few times in the past few weeks to check on her, and drag her out for drinks.<p>

He'd only succeeded in her getting drunk enough to spill the whole sorry tale and then cry on his suit for the rest of the night.

He'd only seemed capable of saying "Wow," for most of those three hours.

_Wow. Yeah. Because being dumped by Miranda was certainly wow-tastic. _Miranda hadn't texted or phoned or emailed or any of that of course. No 'Sorry my daughter was a hateful troll to you, you didn't deserve that'. As if. The sun and moon shone out of their 13-year-old spoiled asses.

She rolled over to her side and stared at the wall. The worst part was she had been starting to really like them. To say nothing of what she felt for their mother. No corner of her heart hadn't been swelling every time she'd held her in her arms. She was completely gone.

What was the use beating herself up anyway? Miranda wanted nothing to do with her. She'd made that abundantly clear the previous day, in what Andy had begun thinking of as her moment of weakness - shortly followed by her moment of magnificent rage.

She'd found herself, after a wretched night of no sleep and missing her former lover with an ache she knew was too pathetic for words, outside Runway on her way to work. Outside Runway at the exact time she knew Miranda would most likely be leaving the building for an appointment with the hot new 'It' boy designer the editor had been talking up for four weeks.

And so she'd stood there, shaking like a leaf and trying to hide it, when the iconic white hair came into view. Her heart stopped. Dead, cold. Miranda had been issuing a string of instructions to Emily as she stalked out the building. Instructions which abruptly ended the moment she slapped eyes on Andy.

For a moment no one spoke. Then Emily regained her wits. "What are YOU doing here you ungrateful wench," she sputtered, as if trying to divine what her boss would most want her to say.

"Ungrateful? Pot, kettle, Emily?" Andy said, eyeing an outfit she knew for a fact she'd given to Emily after she'd left Runway in Paris 18 months ago.

"Oh well, this. I …"

"Emily," Miranda interrupted. "Take those specifications to the car and wait for me. Now."

Emily snuck a look between the two women and then clopped off at a fast clip, asking no questions.

"Andrea," Miranda said in a strangled tone. "We can't. I told you this."

"I just wanted to see…"

"If I've changed my mind? No. I'm still a mother of two impressionable girls. I'm still the editor of a fashion empire and 53 years old. And you're still…"

She waved her hand in Andy's general direction as though something odious was invading her nostrils. "That's all." She headed for the car.

"I'm still what?!" Andy called after her. "WHAT!"

Miranda spun back in alarm. "Keep your voice down! Don't you _dare _make a scene. What, are you _twelve_? Having a tantrum for my attention? Must I summon security?"

All the color drained from Andy's face. If she'd been slapped, it couldn't have hurt more. Well shit, if that didn't tell her exactly where she stood. The pain was incredible. Worse, she thought, than the night at the townhouse.

Her eyes hardened as she looked at Miranda with cold rage. "Don't bother. I thought you were someone else. Someone worthy of my time and feelings. I see I was wrong. I see someone who just uses people and throws them away and doesn't give a shit about how much they care about you. Just like you did with Nigel. And now me – God I must be really dense not to have realised that _of course_ you would do it to me. Because you _just don't care._ To think I bought all your bullshit that _you _were too good for me, when it was really the other way around. Isn't that funny?" She gave a bark of laughter that was devoid of any humor.

"Actually you know what's _really_ sad?" she continued, on a roll. "I was really starting to love your kids before this happened. I thought they were a pair of scamps but I was really fond of them. I had no idea they hated my guts."

Andy paused and looked in anguish at the woman she still wanted with a passion and who she was trying earnestly to hate just as much. Turned out 'love-hate' really was a thing. "Anyway, message received loud and clear. I won't bother you again. Or, god forbid, sell you out. That's more your specialty anyway. Have a nice life."

She turned on heel and left. She sensed no movement behind her, her bruised pride satisfied that Miranda had been rooted to the spot, her mouth frozen open, eyes narrowed.

_Good._

_Bitch._

* * *

><p>At the three-month mark, Nigel came to visit. Unexpectedly. Juggling bottles of strange colors which he declared to be "the fun factory". They had proceeded to get drunk on home-made cocktails while he regaled her with stories about his promotion at Runway - a reward from Miranda for being shafted in Paris. By the time they were both keeling over with laughter, he suddenly grabbed her hand and apologized.<p>

"I'm so sorry, Six," he said. "It's all my fault. Blame me. She got me at a weak moment and I told her I thought you maybe cared for her more than just friends and that's why she started things after that ball. If I'd realized she'd just go and hurt you like this, I'd never have said a thing. But I thought you both might have a shot at something great. You were already so simpatico."

"Oh Nige," Andy said, and wiped her face. "She loves her little girls more than life itself. I was never going to compete when they laid down the law now was I?"

Nigel looked at her sideways, trying to keep his teetering balance on the edge of the couch. "That's just it. I think the twins crossed a line this time. Even though that line was pretty far out to sea."

"Huh?" Andy peered at him, wondering why he now had two faces. She vaguely poked at the air wondering which one was the real Nigel. She found flesh and he protested.

"Stop it, Six." He grabbed her jabby finger. "I'm serious. Well as serious as I can be with a pair of Dirty Orgasms and one Fuzzy Navel in me. Let's just say not everything the little dragon spawnettes do is golden anymore. When she speaks of them at all now, she just gets this sad look and changes the subject."

"Come on, Nigel, you're imagining things," Andy said in disbelief. "She made me try and get a plane through a hurricane for those two. You're insane. _Nothing _would make her care less for them. Certainly not a fight over a former assistant she doesn't give a shit about. I believe she called me a 'pleasant diversion'."

"I'm not insane. I'm telling you she gets sad when she mentions them. Or disappointed. And she's barely home anymore either."

"How come? There's nothing big going on at Runway this month is there?"

"Not a thing. Oh - unrelated note, Kiddo, and the reason I popped around to liquor you up - did you know the best revenge is to live a long and happy life? File that one away will ya. You're acting so pathetic that your dishy friend Douglas called and begged me to do an intervention. Seriously, Six you're _nothing _like that feisty lump of polyester cerulean who first schlepped her way into our lives. And over what? La Priestly? You're not the first petal to have her ass dumped by someone who doesn't deserve them.

"Now come on, chin up, move on, and mix me another one of those blue things. I'm feeling adventurous."


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

**THREE MONTHS EARLIER - THAT NIGHT**  
>Miranda leaned heavily against the door Andrea had just left, staring unseeingly at the stairs in front of her, at Caroline. Right at that moment she felt a special kind of hatred. Hatred for what her girls had just done to her. Anger, frustration and annoyance were a common seething cocktail inside her - a dark coiling snake she was quite accustomed to lashing others with. But this <em>hatred <em>she felt was a strange, new, disturbing sensation, given she was now associating it with her beautiful children.

Her twins had only ever been her pride and joy. Even when they were naughty, it was usually little more than youthful hijinks, or teasing an incompetent assistant too foolish to know when to duck. But this - this _ultimatum _was far different. Itwas deadly serious, malicious, premeditated, and involved a vicious sneak attack on a woman who didn't deserve it. A woman who was kind and joyous and who had only ever made Miranda's life better this past month. And now...

_Andrea was gone._

Miranda had done what any good mother would do, she told herself. She had stopped her daughters' pain instantly. At her own expense. At Andrea's expense.

The coiling snake twitched its tail in her guts again and she eyed the small girl on the steps darkly. The viciousness was unexpected from Caroline. She was always smarter, more forthright than her sister, more confident, the leader, but Miranda had been completely blindsided by the depths Caroline had sunk to tonight.

_Cruel, cruel child._

A snide little voice inside her whispered: _Where, oh where, did she learn that from?_

She stared at Caroline for a moment, weighing her up, observing her dispassionately as the child shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny, staring right back.

_Cruel, cruel child._

The snake twitched again and she forced herself to remember what mattered. Family mattered. Family came first. Always. Always. She loved her girls. Always.

She hadn't been lying when she told Andrea it was for the best. She'd never made any secret of her priorities - it had been the first thing she'd told Andrea about their new arrangement. They must _never _know.

But still. That didn't make what had happened tonight right. No, no, not at all.

She opened her mouth to speak to her youngest daughter by three minutes and was surprised by the chill in her voice. Only Irving knew this inflection well. Never, ever her darling Bobbseys.

"Congratulations," she said and watched as the girl flinched. "I trust you are happy." Her eyes flicked up to Cassidy's wide ones watching from above. "Both of you. Go to bed. We'll talk about your disgraceful actions in the morning."

A startled look dislodged the smug satisfaction on Caroline's freckled face.

Her girls might know they were her weak spot but Miranda certainly did not have to pretend to be happy at being blackmailed. She would not indulge them the fantasy that their behavior had been acceptable. She paused. Perhaps she had indulged them too much? The thought was interrupted when Caroline spoke, pleading, as Miranda approached her on the step.

"Mom, it'll be better now, you'll see. Just the three of us again. And tomorrow for our birthday we can all..."

Miranda blocked out the rest of the sentence and wearily trudged up the stairs, not in the slightest bit interested. That pleading tone. So familiar to the cadence of Andrea's voice. The look on her face when she realised what Miranda had decided was now shattering what few reserves she had left. She'd looked at Miranda with those expressive, hurt brown eyes as if she'd reversed over a box of kittens.

Miranda's lips thinned. She would never forget that look as long as she lived. She tried to visualize her life ahead without the vibrant soul she had begun to appreciate having around. Always delighted to see her - didn't that make a change? Always looking at her like she was someone special. Not because of her influential fashion role, but despite it. Giving of herself without expectation. It had been the best month of her life, if she was being honest.

And now she was gone.

_Cruel, cruel girls._

"We'll see," she muttered flatly as she passed her younger daughter without another look. "Bed. Now."

She shut the door on her bedroom, locked it, kicked off her heels and lowered herself tiredly to her bed. It wasn't even ten and she was exhausted. She focused on her Valentino dress, a beautiful shimmering outfit, especially made for the Runway event tonight. She couldn't even muster the effort to remove it. She closed her eyes for a moment and her thoughts drifted.

Andrea wasn't even supposed to be at the event tonight but she'd surprised her, announcing they _had _to celebrate their 'one month anniversary'.

_Silly girl. Who celebrates such things?_ But Andrea clearly did and she had whisked her out to the hotel balcony, which had been lit with candles. "Just something I prepared earlier," she'd grinned, adding, "It's amazing what you can get when you give the maître d two tickets to the opera he's dying to see."

Through the closed French doors they could still hear the orchestra's music in the background and Andrea had pivoted her out of sight into a corner to dance with her in privacy. They moved together, enjoying the feel of each other. It was a blissful reprieve from the pompous names and faces trying to pinch a piece of her. When the music changed Andrea leaned forward and whispered against the shell of her ear: "I love this one. This is now our song, and I want you to remember it and always think of me.''

Edith Piaf. _Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien_.

Miranda, lying in bed, eyes shut, heard the music in her mind, felt the press of Andrea's body against hers - she was wearing the most delightful Eli Saabe black sheath tonight - the sway of their hips and thighs, and then Andrea had begun to softly sing the song of No Regrets against her ear. She had the most astonishingly sweet voice. She sang it in French and Miranda wondered if the girl actually understood the meaning or had just memorized the beautiful cadence of the words, because it was an odd song to share between new lovers if one knew what it was about.

Or maybe her young love had been psychic after all. Just add it to her list of exceptional skills. Miranda pressed her lips firmly together, willing the tears not to fall. How ridiculous, to cry over a slip of a girl like Andrea Sachs. A former assistant of all things. It had to be exhaustion she told herself; and the shock of a confrontation from her twins she'd never expected.

Andrea's face swam into view again, her lips curling into a smile as soft, coral pink lips leaned forward and began to nip and suck her neck. She could still smell her scent. Something alluring, doubtlessly an over-the-counter mass product line, but when mixed with Andrea's unique fragrance, it was heady. Delicious.

Miranda sighed and squeezed her eyes tighter. She had sacrificed Andrea tonight. Sacrificed her for selfish reasons - to keep her girls close. And Caroline had done exactly the same thing - to keep her mother closer. The apple clearly did not fall far from the tree.

_Who was the cruel one, really? _

She told herself she'd been honest when she told Andrea they would not have lasted. Because as intoxicating and diverting as it had been, how could it? Nothing would change their ages, their gender, Miranda's role as a mother of two. So, clearly it had been just a fling, a romance that made her feel young and special and desired even though she'd just turned 53 and felt considerably older.

Yes, she knew she would miss the girl for a little while. She had somehow unknowingly adjusted to having her in her life, hearing her laugh, feeling her touch, her gentle humor about fashion. But, like all things, Miranda would adapt and that would be that. She was used to disappointment. She'd move on, life would move on.

Perhaps, she mused, the girls had been right to object - not in the manner they did, that had been utterly atrocious - but they were not wrong about what was said. This would be tabloid fodder at its worst. Maybe in a twisted way, they'd done her a favor, protecting her before it could get out, given it wouldn't have lasted. How long before Andrea had grown bored with her and found someone her own age? This way it was over before the worst could be thrown at her family who, it was true, had suffered enough for being related to her.

And say what you will about Miranda Priestly, she told herself firmly, but she always vociferously, proudly protected her family.

So if it was all so right and good and sensible, why did she feel like weeping? Why did she just want to kiss that anguished look off Andrea's face and tell her she would never give her cause to look like that ever again. To promise it would be OK, all OK. And to hold her. To wrap herself around that compassionate, loving, delightful young body and never let go.

Miranda's eyes opened and quite against her stern orders, she felt the wetness sliding down her cheeks.

* * *

><p>Cassidy eyed her sister at breakfast. Her twin was in a subdued mood after last night's horrible encounter. Cassidy had fought a fight to end all fights with her when Caro had told her of her plan to confront their mom and make Andy go away. She'd lost. And her mother had lost, too, if the awful look on her face was anything to go by today. Her eyes were weird and puffy, like she'd been up all night crying. The make-up was doing a crappy job at hiding it. Her movements were robotic as she passed Caro her cereal. And there was no sparkle. Every time she looked at either girl it was as though they'd ripped her heart out and she was trying not to think about it.<p>

Which, come to think of it, was exactly what had happened.

"Mom, about last night," Caroline began, her voice tight.

Cass shot her a warning look. Her sister had the tact and timing of a buffalo.

"No, no," their mom interrupted harshly. "I think you spoke quite enough last night. Laying down the law to me about who I should be allowed to see. Insulting Andrea. Using lewd language. It was a display I have no desire to hear repeated, so you will not mention it to me again."

"But I... I mean, about, Andy..."

"NO. You WILL NOT mention Andrea's name again. What you said last night was appalling. You have done quite enough! And I will not have her insulted ever again. It's bad enough she thinks ... that ..."

She faded out, her lips whitening, and Cassidy was horrified to see her blinking back tears. She shot her sister a dirty "SEE!'' look.

Caro glared back.

Their mother suddenly reached under the table and placed two brightly wrapped presents there. "Happy birthday, girls," she said dully. "I believe it's the Wii games you wanted."

She rose mechanically and walked to each girl, dropping a kiss in turn on their heads. Like it was her duty. There was a small, empty smile that went nowhere near her eyes. And then she left the room. Cassidy was certain she heard a small distressed sound before the door shut. Like a cry but not quite. _Shit_.

"Are you happy?!'' she shot at her sibling immediately. "You've broken her heart!"

"She'll get over it. Come on, it's Andy. Not like it's some man she wants to marry. It was, like, a midlife crisis or something. Some people get a sports car, mom got the lesbian fling."

"How do you know it's not serious? I mean..."

"How can it be? It's ANDY! She's like the dorky dweeb to end them all. How can Mom take her seriously?"

"Hey I _like _Andy, and you did, too, until recently."

"Did not." Caro crossed her arms and glared.

"Did too. You might be able to fool Mom, but you're not fooling me. You liked her. You liked her a whole lot more than Stephen. And Robert. And Jonathon and any of the others. In fact I think you liked her almost as much as Dad."

"You're so full of it. Andy's just passing through. And Mom thought so too or she wouldn't have dropped her like a hot rock last night."

"She dropped her, idiot, because you made her choose between Andy and us. And that was a mean move, too. It's bad enough when you pulled that on me."

"I was reminding her who was important. She missed our pre-birthday night. For HER."

"Ughh. You're impossible. I was there when she promised - she said she had that Runway event on, but she'd TRY to come home early."

"Well you saw what she was doing instead. Letting Andy stick her tongue down her throat. It was gross. I'm doing her a favor."

"God. It must be so nice."

"What?"

"Being the boss of us all. You've made everyone sad. And you don't care."

"You'll thank me when our friends at school aren't picking on us for our dyke mom being in the tabloids."

"My friends never pick on me - that's what makes them FRIENDS. But your friends are bitches anyway. Well Monique is anyway. Is that why you're doing this? Because you're afraid of what she'll say? God you're pathetic. I'm going to talk to Mom. I think she's crying again."

"You promised! Don't forget."

"I won't forget I promised to go along with your stupid blackmail scheme. And I won't forget you made me agree under pain of never talking to me again. But you know what? It's not worth it. I'm not to talking to _you_ now. You're just mean."

* * *

><p>Cassidy knocked gently on her mother's bedroom door and waited. She heard a sniffle, a throat clearing and then a "Come in".<p>

She saw her mother curled up in bed, The Book, at her side, unopened, and her nose red. The phone in her hand she let drop to the bed. As Cassidy neared she could see "Six missed calls" and all had the name 'Andrea' next to them.

"What is it?" Miranda said harshly. "If you're now tag-teaming with your sister, I'm not in the mood."

Cassidy flinched. "No. I'm sorry Caro did what she did."

"I noticed," Miranda said dryly. "Your defense of Andrea and myself was rousing."

Cassidy hung her head. "I know. I'm sorry I didn't stand up to Caro."

Her mother stared at her for so long that Cassidy felt wretched. Finally she spoke in that same cold voice from last night that made her shiver on the inside.

"No, you didn't. I'm very disappointed in you, Cassidy. I thought you had more character than to just go along with someone else's schemes. It's especially weak if you don't even agree with what you're doing. I thought I had not raised a weak child. Clearly I was wrong."

Cassidy licked her lips anxiously. This was worse than she'd thought. She felt her mother's bloodshot blue eyes regarding her closely.

"Why did you keep it a secret?" Cass asked quietly. "Is it because she's a woman? Or young?"

"I thought it was no one's business but ours. And I didn't think you or your sister would want to know. I strongly felt I was protecting you. Now, can you tell me why Caroline hates Andrea so much?"

Cassidy shook her head. "I didn't think she did. But I guess I don't understand her at all."

Her mother pursed her lips. "Was she serious? About involving your father and you two going there to live?"

Cass rubbed her eyes. "Yeah. I think so. You know how she is, she's like you - she never says anything she won't follow through on."

"Am I such a bad mother? That I deserve this?" The hurt was obvious even as her mother's face seemed cold and closed.

"No," Cass cried and flung herself into her arms. "Of course not. I don't want to live with Dad."

If her mother was slow, achingly slow, to put her hands around her and return the hug, Cassidy prayed with all her heart she was just imagining it.

"What are you going to do?" Cass asked in a small voice. She swallowed hard when she felt her mother's hands drop away from her. The older woman fingered the cell phone beside her.

"The only sensible option I have," she said finally. "Ground you both for your atrocious behavior, but ... ultimately ..." She lifted her phone, switched it off, and tossed it to one side.

_Nothing_. Cassidy looked at her mother in shock. _Nothing_?

"Now you and your sister should go to school." That low, scary whisper was back. "I have to review The Book."

* * *

><p><strong>THREE MONTHS LATER<strong>

Cassidy was munching on toast when she heard her sister hiss from across the table. "Not again! Mom's going to have a cow."

She looked up to see Caroline glowering at Page Six and shaking her head.

"Is she out with her again?" Cassidy asked mid chew.

"Yeah - that old lady. She's mom's age! God it's pathetic. Why are they even taking Andy's photo? She's a no one!"

"Yeah but her date isn't. She's like uber famous in the tech world. Worth a bundle, too."

"Do you think Mom's seen this?"

"Given she brought the paper in, I'd say yes."

"Crap. She'll be in a mood all week. Remember how mad she was when she bumped into Andy outside Runway – she kept saying her name and then scrunching up bits of paper. Her fourth floor office looked like a paper shredder had exploded."

"Like you care."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"If you hadn't stopped her dating Andy, they'd be happy together. Mom would be happy now." Cassidy put down her toast.

"Or broken up by now. Can you really see Mom sticking with the girl half her age. It's stupid. The whole thing is ridiculous."

"No it's not." Her eyes widened in realization. "And I'm starting to think you thought they might have lasted too. Or you wouldn't have bothered breaking them up, you'd have just waited. Oh my God!"

"What have they even got in common?" her sister said, ignoring the comment. "I mean they're decades apart."

"She and Stephen were the same age and look how that worked out." Cassidy eyed her thoughtfully.

"I can't believe you wanted them together - I did everyone a favor and you're all carrying on like I murdered someone."

Cassidy slapped the table in frustration. The knives and forks rattled. "You still don't get it do you?"

"What?"

"It was never _your_ right to decide. I think I want a twin divorce. You can't possibly be related to me."

Caroline scowled. "It's better how it is now, without her," she insisted. And this time, for the first time in two months, Cassidy heard the hint of questioning. Doubt.

She stared at her sibling who looked suddenly uncomfortable.

"Oh yeah, it's so much better," Cass said slowly. "Especially the way we NEVER see Mom now because she's so miserable she's thrown herself into her work. And then there's her expression every time she looks at us."

Caroline flushed and pushed her spoon around her bowl. "I don't know what you're talking about," she mumbled unconvincingly.

At that moment their mother entered.

"Aren't you finished yet girls?" she asked flatly. "Roy will be here in two minutes. Bowls in the sink, and run some water in them."

Her expression was flat, too, as if it required too much effort to go beyond the bare minimum. Like adjusting her features beyond empty was too hard. Her eyes flicked to Caroline and Cass knew without a doubt this time her sister had seen it, too. It was subtle, but there. The slight hardening around her mouth.

"I'm almost done," Caroline said hastily and rose.

"Well by all means," their mother said impatiently, "on your time. After all everyone knows the world revolves around Caroline Marie Priestly and her wishes."

And then all three Priestlys froze. The twins blinked at their mother, eyes wide. Cassidy realized her heart was racing. To discover, after three months, their mother still ... what, hated them? Blamed them? She slid her eyes to Caroline who was staring at the floor.

"Sorry," their mother said quietly. "That was ... unnecessary." She glanced at the table and saw Page Six's picture of Andy Sachs partying the night away with a beautiful, older business woman called Marissa. Her lips bared and she gave a soft growl, leaning across the table to slap it shut. She snapped: "And throw that gossipy rubbish in the trash."

She exited furiously, and both girls watched her go silently.

That was the other thing Cass had noticed. Their mother had stopped referring to them as Bobbsey. Caroline rarely was named at all. Their mother would merely look at her youngest daughter to get her attention and then tell her to do something. It was like all the affection was slowly leaching away. Like she couldn't even bear to say her name again.

Caroline broke the silence and sucked in a big breath. "Shit. I know. I know, OK? I know. I've known since the day I did it. But you know how stubborn I get when I think I'm right. But I never thought she'd ever look at me like that. I never thought it would be like this. That she'd be in so much ..."

She shrugged.

"Pain," Cassidy supplied. "You've got to fix this. This isn't about you anymore, it's about Mom. Mom being miserable without Andy."

Caroline shook her head. "I think it's beyond Andy now. She thinks it's for our good not to date anyone. Ever! Which isn't what I wanted. Didn't I try and encourage her when that publisher came around last week? Neville something? I don't want her to be miserable, Cass, truly. I tried!"

Cassidy pulled a face. "That guy was horrible, kissing her hand and fawning over her like she was in a display window. Didn't you see the way she sneered at him? And you giving Mom your permission to date him - like YOU have a say, it was like salt in the wound. She's so mad with you right now. It just reminded her of what you did with Andy."

"But he seemed like her type," Caroline protested. "He was just like Dad."

"_Andy _is her type and you didn't care about that." Cass looked at her hard. "Are you a homophobe? Is that what this has been about?"

"No! Cass, no. How can you even ask?"

"Then what on earth is your deal with Andy? She's never been anything but kind to us. Even when you were a monster to her that day, she tried to understand. Why do you hate Andy? Just tell me that? Why!"

Cassidy got up in her twin's face and glared at her and waited.

"I DON'T! I don't hate her at all! I like her a whole lot," Caroline finally exploded. "Geez. Get off it. Stop looking at me like that."

"Then why did you do it?"

"I have my reasons." Shame filled her face.

Cassidy waited, her glare hardening. "Spill."

"No."

"Spill or I give your new backpack to Patricia to chew on."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me." Cass glowered. She did it so rarely it was highly effective.

Her sister let out an explosive breath of air.

"Fine!" Caroline blurted. "Can't you see? Mom LOVED Andy! They'd barely dated at all and I could see she was The One. She was totally nuts about her. It was so obvious," she added in a helpless plea to her sister. "I think they were _really_ in love."

Cass stared at her twin, appalled. "You _knew_ that and you still did what you did to her?"

"That's _why_ I did it."

"Oh my God, that's, that's _evil!_" Cassidy gaped at her in shock. "Who _are_ you?"

Caroline rubbed her face with her hands as tears began to leak. "I'm sorry, I was just so scared. Mom had never looked at anyone the way she looked at Andy. Not even Dad. Only you and me. And I thought for sure if Andy hung around any longer, soon we'd be replaced, too. She'd only care about Andy. She was already all 'Andrea says blah blah', and 'Andrea will be attending blah blah and I can't be late'. She wouldn't even want us or need us."

"You were _jealous_?" Cass gaped. "All this because you thought Mom would replace us in her affections? Oh my God, you moron. The worst part is you've done it any way!"

"Huh?"

"Idiot! Mom loves us less now than before - because of your stupid demand that she give up Andy. I know you see it, too. And for the record you _totally_ suck."

Caroline's mouth worked and finally she said in a small voice. "I know. I know I do. I thought... hell, I don't know what I thought."

"She gave up someone she _loves _for us," Cassidy said. "For you."

She stared at her sister. "She's so sad now. And disappointed. All the time. She barely looks at us. No more hugs."

"Yeah," Caroline agreed. "I noticed."

"You have to fix it."

"How?"

"Just tell her you're sorry."

"Who's sorry?" Miranda asked striding back into the room holding some paperwork. "And aren't you two done yet? Roy is waiting. Must my daughters deign to move at a glacial pace? You're as bad as my assistants."

Her face dropped suddenly at that and Cassidy knew her mom was yet again remembering one assistant in particular. Because that look always meant she was thinking of Andy. Cass elbowed her sister hard.

"Mom, I'm sorry about driving Andy away," Caroline suddenly blurted. "It was a really mean thing to do, I never actually hated her, and I'm sorry. You can go get her back now. Um, if you want." She looked down as if realizing dictating her mother's love life yet again was a really bad move.

Miranda stopped cold and pivoted to stare at her. "Just like that?" she asked. "Today's whim is you wish for me to have Andrea back in our lives. Say sorry and it's fixed?"

Caroline blinked. "Um, I guess?"

"You guess." Miranda's lips thinned. "How marvelous you've thought this all out so clearly. And what of tomorrow when you decide you don't want her around again. Will you tell her she's now ugly and useless and that I am a selfish, wicked mother for forcing you to look at her?"

The pain in her mother's voice was so wrenching, so anguished that Cassidy gasped. Caroline looked at her miserably from underneath her lashes.

Miranda continued: "In any event, Andrea has made it perfectly clear she wants nothing further to do with me, and frankly I don't see why she would given her  
>appalling treatment at our family's hands."<p>

She slid icy blue eyes over both daughters. "I appreciate you have decided she is not the devil incarnate you portrayed her as. She is a kind and gentle woman who liked you both and who deserves better than us. And, as everyone can see from the latest entries on Page Six, her affections have already been ... reallocated. There is nothing to be done."

Caroline shook her head in disbelief. "Oh man."

Miranda's eye slipped to Cassidy who quailed under the scrutiny. "Silent yet again, Cassidy? How … disappointing."

She tsked once and with that left the room.

Cassidy promptly burst into tears. "I hate you," she hissed to her sister. "Did you see that? When has she _ever_ spoken to us like that? We're not her assistants."

Caroline stared back glumly. "Yeah," she whispered and nodded. "And when has she ever sounded so … I dunno ... hopeless before?" She stood. "OK, I get it. Shit. I'll fix it."

"How?" Cassidy asked through tear-stained eyes. "She just said Andy wants nothing to do with us."

"Andy loved Mom, too," Caroline said certainly. "I know it or I wouldn't have freaked out the way I did."

"Like she'll want anything to do with us now. Mom's right. She's moved on and she's happy without us. You saw the photos. That gazillionaire woman had her hands all over Andy."

"Andy may have moved on," Caroline said firmly, "But look at the photo again. She's smiling but not in her eyes. Not like she was with Mom. She was alive with Mom and Mom was with her. So all we have to do is to track down Andy, get her in the same room as Mom and remind her of what she's missing."

Cass snorted. "Simple."

Caroline grinned. "Yep."


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

Andy was getting tired of smiling. It was Marissa's big night, the launch of her latest company – some spin-off enterprise that made it easy for regular people to create their own apps - and she'd been sweetly cajoled into being her escort. The meet and greet was at RumTum - a hot new club with a dodgy pirate theme that was the talk of Manhattan.

Her feet hurt after three hours in her (admittedly stunning) red six inch Choos. Her dress was a little too tight across the bust – a fact that Marissa especially seemed to appreciate – but truthfully Andy was secretly dying to go home and tuck into a good book in bed.

Still, she'd promised Marissa she'd be here with bells on, and the other woman never asked much of her. She'd been exceptionally understanding when they'd first started dating, when Andy had explained her heart had been broken and asked that they "move at a glacial pace". The moment she'd said it, she'd started laughing helplessly. Miranda Priestly was everywhere it seemed, whether she wanted her to be or not. Without noticing, she was crying and Marissa had gathered her in a hug and told her she understood. So they hadn't done anything beyond kiss yet.

It was pleasant being with Marissa Hamilton. The older woman was in her fifties, willowy, with a shock of blonde-white hair easily visible in the night club, with sparkling green eyes. She had a preference for skinny black jeans, imposing boots and sharp, designer tee-shirts. She had been 'out' since the "scandalous seventies" she told Andy, and was always proud to show her off to her friends. They made a striking couple – which was part of the reason Andy had a semi regular spot on Page Six these days.

The fact Marissa had more than a passing resemblance to someone else, Andy firmly chose not to dwell on.  
>Marissa's business partners were with her now, a team of four businessmen in expensive suits, posing for photos for the business media, so Andy headed for the bar to top up her drink. It was crowded so she moved to the end squeezing onto a bar stool.<p>

It took all of three seconds to realise what was wrong with this picture.

"Hi Andy." "Hello Andy."

Twin voices sounded sheepish from under big floppy hats which were fooling no one.

Andy rolled her eyes. "Do I want to know what a pair of 13-year-olds are doing on a school night in a pirate bar?"

"We're on a mission," Caroline said earnestly.

Her sister nodded.

Andy sighed. _Drama. Always drama with the Priestly clan_. She tried to work out whether she cared. Her eyes fell to the drinks in front of the girls.

"Please tell me they're non-alcoholic at least?"

"Cokes," the said in unison.

"And would I be right in presuming your mother has no idea you're here?"

The floppy hats shook from side to side in unison.

_God_.

Andy stared at them. "I'm still pretty mad with you two, you know."

They eyed her with matching, sorrowful green eyes.

"I'm really, really sorry, Andy," Caroline said. "I freaked out about how much Mom cared about you. I think I had a psychosomatic break."

A _psychosomatic_ break? Andy stifled her laugh. Her eye fell to Cassidy.

"What she said," the twin agreed. "I should have stopped her from being a wicked monster."

"Mmm," Andy said neutrally. "And now you're both sorry."

Twin nods under floppy hats.

"Well that makes it all better then," she said evenly, the sarcasm only slightly edging her tone. "I'm sure your mother has forgiven you."

Twin head shakes. Andy's eyebrow shifted skyward.

"She hates us now," Caroline whispered. "Especially me. For breaking her heart."

She looked at Andy unblinkingly, eyes wide.

Andy snorted. "Girls, don't be silly. Your mom could never hate you. Don't forget she chose you over me. She will _always _choose you. That's how it works. She loves you both more than anything else."

"She might love us, Andy," Cassidy said seriously, "But we don't think she likes us anymore."

A silence fell and Andy considered that carefully, recalling Nigel's words. That Miranda was disappointed and sad now when the twins came up in discussion. It still seemed so unbelievable.

Her disbelief must have shown on her face because Caroline said, ticking off her fingers: "She doesn't hug as much now, doesn't call us Bobbsey, and she never says my name. She's _always _at work. She doesn't sleep enough. She scrunches up bits of paper furiously whenever someone says your name – it's driving Cara crazy – and she goes mean and moody every time you're on Page Six with _Her_."

A little finger jabbed in the direction of Marissa and Andy frowned. She grabbed the accusing finger, folding it out of sight in her hand and glared. "Stop that, it's rude."

"Sorry," Caroline muttered and looked down. "I sometimes do rude things. Like call you fat and a gold digger and stuff. I'm really sorry. I didn't mean it. I like you a whole lot, and I always did."

Cassidy nodded vehemently. "She really does," she confirmed.

Andy sighed. "I see. So why are you here? Your 'mission'?"

"Oh right," Caroline smiled brightly. "We need you to take us home. We have no money and it's late. Really unsafe for young women like us, wouldn't you say?"

Andy's eyes bugged out. "What the hell? You little schemers! You planned this? So I'd have to help you?"

Twin heads nodded under floppy hats.

Before Andy could react further, Marissa had returned and stepped inside her space. She slid a hand around her back. "Hello darling," she said and gave Andy's cheek a kiss. "Care to introduce me to your friends?"

Andy sighed. "The taller evil monster under the purple hat is Caroline. The shorter evil monster with the extra freckles is Cassidy. They're daughters of my former boss."

Marissa smiled invitingly and edged the wide hats off each girl to get a better look at them. "Well now, aren't you two adorable for evil masterminds? Although you seem a tiny bit young for a business launch in a nightclub. Dare I ask how you managed to worm your way in here?"

"We bribed the driver unloading drinks at the back door," Caroline said proudly.

Marissa's eyebrows shot up and Andy suppressed another urge to laugh. The things a Priestly child considered normal did not bear thinking about.

"I thought you just told me you had no money," she challenged Caroline sternly.

"Not anymore," Cassidy said with a shrug. "We gave him our entire pocket money for last month. Combined. Although we held back $5 each for Cokes in case we died of dehydration. That's an actual thing you know."

"I see," Marissa said suppressing a smirk and then turned to look at Andy curiously. Her wheels were starting to turn. Sometimes Andy cursed the fact she had such a brilliant girlfriend. Without looking back at the girls, Marissa said, "You must have wanted to get in here very badly. Was it to see your friend Andy?"

"Yes," they both chorused.

"Why?" This time she turned back to them. "I thought Andy used to work for Runway. Which makes her former boss Miranda Priestly. Which makes you two her twin daughters. So tell me why would two daughters of a fashion editor want to see my Andy so badly?"

"Um, Mari," Andy interjected, "I think they're getting started with the speeches. Maybe you should…"

"They can wait," Marissa said, waving her hand, her attention unwavering. "I am the boss after all. Please continue." She looked hard at the twins with the same intensity she examined source code.

Caroline and Cassidy glanced at each other and back at Andy.

"We want her back," Caroline finally admitted. "Mom's sad without her. She loves her."

_Oh shit_. Andy wanted to thud her head on the bar. _The things kids say._ Marissa was now studying her with a great deal of interest.

"Your mother is in love with Andy? Your mother, Miranda Priestly?"

_Oh God. Oh God, oh God._

Twin nods.

"Then why isn't she here instead of you two? Maybe you misunderstood how your mother feels about her former employee?"

Twin head shakes.

"She loves her and needs her and you're not what Andy wants," Caroline said impatiently. Her eyes dragged across Marissa's body. "And you don't have Mom's fashion sense either!"

She said it like it was the worst insult on the planet.

_Oh fuck._ Andy groaned inwardly. "Girls, I think maybe it's time we called a cab for you and got you home …"

"Ahhhh," Marissa mused thoughtfully, "I think I see where the 'evil' tag comes in now. Were you this evil to Andy, too?"

To everyone's surprise Caroline abruptly burst into tears. Andy blinked at her in astonishment. Caroline was as tough as Cassidy was sensitive. Caroline never ever cried. It was like she thought it beneath her or something.

"YES! I was horrible and _super_ evil and now I want to make it right and you're IN THE WAY!" Caroline declared between watery hiccups.

Marissa started in surprise. "I see." And when she turned to look at Andy the younger reporter realised she really did.

Caroline sniffed and then eyed Marissa grouchily. "Sorry, but you are."

"Isn't this up to Andy, who she wants to date?" Marissa asked her quietly and oh-so reasonably, handing a tissue to the young girl. "Does it matter to you at all what she wants? What if she wants to be with me now? I could give her a good life. I think she's pretty special, too. I would be nice to her. Don't you even want to ask what Andy needs now?"

Andy thought that had to be the most perceptive question she had ever heard. How Caroline answered would show whether she was truly sorry or was merely sorry her mother was sad. She leaned forward a little and waited.

"Of course it matters," Caroline said crossly with an 'are you dense' look on her face. "It doesn't work if Andy doesn't want Mom, too. But I _know_ Andy does. We can tell. Because she doesn't smile with her eyes anymore. Not in any of the pictures."

Caroline pulled out of her pocket a newspaper scrap - a worn and rumpled photo that had been in Page Six three days ago.

"See!" she slapped it on the bar as though the proof was obvious.

All heads bent over the photo and then all eyes swung back on Andy who shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. Marissa considered the picture thoughtfully.

"Girls," the businesswoman suggested quietly, "Can you give Andy and me a few minutes please? If you go and see Saul over there by the band, he'll let you pick the next song they play."

Caroline and Cassidy turned to Andy for approval. She gave a nod and they scampered off. Caroline of course threw a warning look over her shoulder at Marissa.

"So," the older woman began, "You and Miranda Priestly."

Andy blushed furiously but didn't deny it. "Marissa…"

"You know at least three times a week someone remarks on how similar we look." Marissa said. "Three. Times. A. Week. I think it's the hair."

Andy glanced at the other woman guiltily but saw only compassion there. "I'm so sorry Mari," she whispered. "I didn't mean to use you as a substitute. It wasn't like I did it on purpose. Truly."

The entrepreneur smiled tightly. "I do actually believe you. Subconsciously, though, we usually do the things our heart most wants. And it sounds to me like your heart still wants her. Or her girls seem to think so at least."

Andy laughed coldly. "A pleasant diversion."

"What?"

"A pleasant diversion. That's what she called me when she broke up with me. No matter what the girls think, or how sad they claim her to be, I don't think I matter to her as much as the twins think."

"Then find out."

"What?" Andy stared at her girlfriend.

"You owe it to the girls, to you, and to _me _quite frankly to find out. I wasn't kidding before. I could see us having a nice life together if you were committed too. But I don't want to even try with the spectre of Miranda God Damned Priestly sitting on our shoulder."

Andy leaned into Marissa and kissed her, wrapping her arms around her waist. "You're special," she whispered sadly. "Any woman would be lucky to have you. I'm sorry."

"Go," Marissa said. "Take the evil monsters home and confront your dragon. If you come back to me, I'll know we have a real shot. And if not…"

Andy repeated. "If not?"

"Then I'll rue the day the most beautiful woman I've ever met slipped through my fingers. But at least I'll know she's finally happy. And that the haunted look will be gone from her eyes."

Andy swallowed. "Oh."

"Yes. I might know numbers and code, but I also know real sadness when I see it. We all deserve to be happy."

She felt Marissa's fingers tighten and her lips brush against hers and then she pulled away.

"Goodbye, Mari," Andy said quietly, holding her gaze meaningfully.

And they both knew it was.

* * *

><p>Andy left the cab, a girl on either side, and walked up the townhouse stairs. The door flung open immediately.<p>

"Where on EARTH have you two been? I've been worried sic…"

Miranda's wild eyes settled on Andy and the younger woman stood frozen in the gaze. She was more beautiful than she remembered. Something about the gravitas and charisma, power and sheer screw-you-all presence. Her heart lurched and began beating rapidly.

"Miranda," Andy cleared her throat. "I rescued these two from RumTum. They crashed a business launch I was at."

Miranda stared at them all in shock. "A business launch? At that ridiculous pirate club?"

Andy nodded. "Marissa Hamilton is launching a new…"

At the mention of her now ex-girlfriend's name, Miranda's lips tightened, her eyes narrowed and Andy ground to a halt. "Never mind."

Caroline spoke up. "We think you both should be together, so we went to fetch her."

"And she agreed, just like that?" Miranda said in disbelief.

"Well she had to come with us," Cassidy said proudly. "We had no money to get home."

"So you're still employing coercion and blackmail techniques," Miranda said with a frustrated sigh. "Why should I be so shocked."

"For _good _this time," Caroline protested her innocence. "Not evil. We want you both happy."

Miranda stared at Andy's face, as if memorizing every detail. Her expression, though, was flat.

"You two are grounded again. Meddling in my love life is completely unacceptable. We are not ever allowing that to occur again, do you hear me? Sneaking out and attending an adult nightclub is very dangerous – this could have ended very, very badly. Dragging Andrea into all this because she was too kind-hearted to leave you on your own is despicable. In fact you've clearly hauled her away from some form of … social assignation."

Andy wondered why Miranda had an aversion to saying the word "date".

"Well Mari didn't mind me leaving," she said, purely for accuracy. She was a journalist after all.

Miranda's lips thinned considerably, apparently unhappy that Andy had just confirmed where she'd been.

"That woman, the technology entrepreneur, I presume?" Disapproval dripped off her voice.

Andy's head snapped up. "How is that any of your business? _You_ dumped _me_, I might remind you."

"Mom," Cassidy interjected hastily. "Please just make up with Andy. We don't want you sad anymore. And we know Andy really likes you too or she wouldn't be here."

Both adults' eyes snapped to stare at her. "And ahh we're just gonna go to our rooms." Caroline began backing away, grabbing her sister by the arm.

"That is the first smart idea you've had all night, Bobbsey," Miranda said, eyes swinging back to fix on Andy.

The girls looked between each other and then nodded excitedly, much to Andy's confusion. As they scampered upstairs, Andy heard Caroline say with joy, "She called us Bobbsey again!"

The room fell quiet.

Miranda looked at Andy thoughtfully. "Thank you for looking out for my daughters. A lesser person may not have given what has transpired."

"I forgive them," Andy said simply, and smoothed down her dress. She was suddenly aware of how much cleavage was on display when she felt Miranda's eyes track to it. The older woman's alabaster skin pinkened.

Something about Miranda's last sentence pulled Andy's attention.

"Will you forgive them too?" she guessed.

Miranda sighed and glanced away. "In time. I know it's bad form for a mother to not forgive and forget. But this time…" She shook her head and when she met Andy's eyes this time, there was extra moisture.

"This time," she continued, "They went too far and I'm not sure it can ever be fixed. On the other hand I am well they are little girls who sometimes don't realize what they've done, or that some paths can be irreversible."

"Irreversible?" Andy's heart sank.

Miranda licked her lips anxiously and glanced away. "It's clear that people move on, just as I predicted."

Andy stared at her. "You're dating someone new? Oh, hell, that Neville man. God, of course."

She felt foolish, deluding herself yet again Miranda would ever want her. Her eyes flashed darkly and she took a step towards the door. Miranda looked at her in surprise.

"Neville Lassmore," Miranda began with a derisive lip curl, "is an imbecile. I'm talking about you - and that woman who's had her hands all over you on Page Six for a month." Miranda's face twisted into distaste. "And if not her, then the next one. You're young and beautiful. It's to be expected. I predicted it, too, so of course I should not be surprised."

She pursed her lips. "I however have dated no one since you slammed my door off its hinges three months ago. I find no one else has lived up to … expectations."

"Expectations?" Andy asked in shock. "You mean … _me_?" She felt surely she'd misheard. "Miranda, you called me a 12-year-old. You were so vicious outside Runway that day. Forgive my skepticism here, but after what you said to me that day I was pretty sure you wanted nothing more to do with me. That's why I moved on."

"Yes, well," Miranda said. "I may have misspoke."

"Misspoke?" Andy's eyes bugged out. "Misspeaking is accidentally calling someone the wrong name. Not threatening them with security."

"I-I…" Miranda ground her jaw. "If you must know I was afraid you were about to announce how I felt to the streets of New York and half of the loitering Runway staff."

Miranda turned slowly to stare down her hallway, as if unable to be under Andy's scrutiny a moment longer. "I am glad you have found it so easy to move on," the editor added in a stilted tone. "After all that has happened, you do deserve it, Andrea. If you've found happiness, even if it is with that poorly dressed … computer … person, then I will attempt to be glad for you."

She pursed her lips as if pained.

Andy regarded Miranda's drawn shoulders, and the hang of her head. _Oh wow. Oh my God. The little monsters were actually RIGHT about something?_

"Miranda, did you never notice how much you look like Marissa?" she asked softly. "It was the main part of her appeal I think."

Miranda tilted her head up. "The thought had occurred. But then I simply imagined you had a 'type'."

"Actually," Andy continued, stepping forward a little closer, "getting to know her became an exercise in discovering how _not_ _you_ she is. It was difficult to pretend otherwise, even subconsciously."

"So you don't..." Miranda paused and cleared her throat. "You didn't ... with her?"

"No," Andy said. "We didn't. Half a dozen dates here or there, but she also failed my exceptionally high standards - through no fault of her own. She's a good woman and she deserves to be with someone who loves her for her, not for who she looks like. So tonight we went our separate ways."

Something close to hope suddenly lit Miranda's eyes. "Does that mean you'd consider..."

Andy watched Miranda founder to find the words, a rare enough sight.

"That depends," Andy said.

"On?" Miranda stepped forward this time, and her fingers brushed a strand of hair from out of Andy's eyes.

"On how good your apology is. Because you said some of the shittiest things I've ever heard in my life. If we're to move forward, I need to hear an apology."

"An apol..." Miranda's gaze grew harder. "I'm a _mother_, Andrea, I had no option but to make the choice I did. I do not apologize for that. I will always choose my girls first. _Always_."

Andy stepped back abruptly and frowned.

"I'm not asking you to choose between them and me. I _never _would. I never did. It's just you didn't even fight for us. And the things Caroline said? You did nothing! You just gave up on us, on _me_."

"But I had no choice!" Miranda said, her voice rising. "Had they gone to their father's I don't know what I would have done. I will not be without them. Never!"

"Nor should you be," Andy said. "But you could have sat down with your girls - they're just kids for god's sake, they don't get to dictate who you get to be with - and you could have gotten to the bottom of this and reassured them that they were worried over nothing. Or we could have all sat down together and had a discussion. But, no, you're Miranda Priestly and you had to go for the thermonuclear option and leave me scarred and charred. How do you think that makes me feel? You destroyed me because it was simpler than picking through a delicate emotional minefield with your kids. It _broke_ me, do you get it?"

There was a heavy silence and Miranda's whole face changed. From anger to something deep and dark and primal. She stepped forward, nose to nose, and said, her voice shaking, "I can assure you I am not indifferent to the events of that night. Should you require it I have proof enough of a broken heart to satisfy even you."

She looked appalled that Andy could suggest anything less. It was like a declaration of love, lobbed in typical Miranda fashion, via pain and anger and veiled insult.

Andy, through her sheen of tears threatening to run down her cheeks, suddenly offered a watery smile.

"Sense and Sensibility?"

"What?" Miranda asked waspishly.

"You just quoted Sense and Sensibility. My favorite movie. Don't you remember I brought it around and we watched it that night? You complained the whole way through it but you also said the fashions were 'acceptable'. "

Miranda blinked. "I vaguely recall."

"You _were_ paying attention. You said at the time it was lovesick nonsense. But you were watching and listening to it with me. For me?"

"I was," Miranda said uncertainly. "You said it was your favorite. I merely wished to ascertain why."

"You _do_ care," Andy said, eyes wide, warm. Her smile was enormous.

"Is that what this is about?" Miranda cocked an eyebrow and took a step back. "Are you fishing for compliments, Andrea? You wish to be told I care for you? Or perhaps that I am a broken sobbing mess without you? Is that it? You want your life to be like an Edwardian romance? Goodness."

Andy stilled. The disdain was back. A good defense was a brutal offense, it seemed. Hurt others before they hurt you. She studied Miranda without replying.

The white-haired woman's eyes were dark. Her skin was sallower than it had been. And her nightgown, encased in a grey silk robe, hung off her frame. She might talk a good game but Andy knew suddenly she had cut very close to the bone.

_What was Miranda so afraid of now that she would lash out at the very moment they were so close to reconnecting? _

Miranda glanced at the door. Andy followed her gaze and stared at it.

The penny dropped. _Oh. _

She expected Andy to leave again. She didn't want to be hurt once more. She was stress-testing their relationship before it even resumed.

_How very Miranda._

Andy sighed internally. It was a hard thing to love a woman like this. For all Miranda's beauty and poise, position and power, she was just a woman, terrified of being broken. Andy tried to work out what to say. How do you respond to caustic disdain?

The silence had gone on too long. Miranda twitched in agitation and acute pain suddenly lanced the older woman's face. Her hands flew out to gather Andy's and she squeezed them hard.

"No..." the older woman began shakily, squeezing again. "I'm sorry. Don't. Please don't. If you must know I _was_," she continued in a small, ashamed voice. "I _was_ a broken sobbing mess without you." Her voice caught. "Just don't go again. I know I deserve it and worse. I say horrible, cruel things when I'm angry or frightened. My youngest daughter, you may have noticed, has acquired the habit, too. But I don't mean them."

Andy opened her mouth to speak when Miranda shook her head, stopping her.

"I'm aware I'm an insecure old fool who's had a taste of love and is afraid of losing it again," she said. "But, Andrea, don't go. I ... I allowed my fears of losing my girls to dominate my common sense that awful day.

"I'm sorry for my cruel words just now. And in the past. I'm sorry for hurtful words I may say the next time I'm terrified or angry. But Andrea, I find my life without you to be inconsequential. These past three months have been like a cheap, pale copy of a stunning Givenchy gown. Do you understand? I cannot continue like this. Without you."

Andy stared at her in surprise. This was an astonishing amount of bravery for one so guarded. Miranda took the silence as judgment and turned away again. She released their hands in defeat.

Andy wrapped herself around Miranda's waist from behind. "I won't go," she whispered into her ear, her breath dislodging tiny white hairs at her neck. "I love you, Miranda," she added. "I don't want to be anywhere else. I forgive you and your terrible little scamps."

She leaned forward and brushed her lips along Miranda's ear and murmured with a slight smile, "But in the morning - because I plan to stay the night right now - we're going to have a stern talk to your girls about boundaries."

Miranda nodded, tears making it hard for her throat to work, and then turned, crushing their heads together, lips seeking out Andy's.

The brunette pulled away after a few delicious minutes and nuzzled her neck. She then began to hum their Edith Piaf song softly. "Remember this?" she asked. "It's my fondest memory, dancing with you that night."

Miranda paused and murmured against the top of her hair. "Andrea, do you know what the words to _Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien_ mean? No Regrets. It's a goodbye song. Two lovers leaving and moving on."

"I had no regrets loving you," Andy explained, "That's why I chose it. I didn't know it meant goodbye though. But that's OK. We'll change our song."

"There will be no changing of our song," Miranda said firmly. "I have never regretted caring for you, either. Having two interfering little girls on occasion, yes," she added, her eyes dancing. "But never us. Never ever us. Forgive me for not saying this before, but I do love you, Andrea. With everything that I am."

Their kiss was gentle, loving and said, quite clearly, no regrets.


End file.
